


The History Heist

by KrozJr



Series: Isobel Saga [5]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-20 03:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16548113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrozJr/pseuds/KrozJr
Summary: Names are disappearing off pages. Companions are fading out of existence. And who is this guy at Victoria’s door?





	1. Fading

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for waiting, here is the second half. There are two stories: this one (4 parts), and The Final Act (6 parts). As usual, every Wednesday and Saturday.

** Part 1 - Fading   
**

 

Zoe studied the tablet on Shakespearean literature. She was curled up in a soft seat, sitting quietly in the TARDIS library. Isobel had briefly entered the room to grab a book, but other than that, she hadn’t seen a soul. The rundown of Shakespeare was fascinating, truly fascinating. She read all about Hamlet and Macbeth and Titania and Julius Caesar and Cress-

The name erased itself from the page, suddenly. Like a rubber on a paper, pencil marks as a person disappeared from the record. The name Cressida had been purged from the book of history.

 

“Doctor, this is peculiar.” Zoe said, strolling into the console room. Surely enough, the new pastime (chess) was being played, but Jamie was (surprisingly) winning. Odd.

“What’s peculiar?” Isobel asked as her nose came out from  _ Photography: Advanced Tips and Tricks _ . She was enjoying reading it - it had shown her a lot of cool new things to do.

“Well,” Zoe started, well aware that the Doctor was only half-listening, “I was reading about Trolius and Cressida, the Shakespeare play, when the name Cressida disappeared, almost like she’d been purged from history.” At this, the Doctor’s eyes shot up. For a moment, a vague thought crossed his mind before it found something to connect with.

“Vicki!”

 

Trolius looked up from the floor. A servant came to him, offered him a warm cloth (probably heated over a fire), and then left. A tear streaked down his face. Suddenly, another man came to him.

“Lord, someone is here for you, regarding Lady Cressida.” He said. Immediately, Trolius’ eyes shot up; his beautiful Lady Cressida had vanished. A person in mysterious brown robes had appeared at his door, asking after her briefly, and so she had gone. That was three nights ago, and she had not returned. The riders of the republic were looking, but many didn’t hold much hope.

“Bear him entrance.” Trolius said. And so, that blue box from which the goddess-like lady Cressida had come from was dragged into his room, with the god Zeus and his companions (at a guess, Athena, Poseidon, and Artemis) entered his room.

 

“Oh great god Zeus, you have changed your appearance but I recognise your temple. Please, o mighty Zeus, bring back my wife!” Trolius immediately threw himself at the feet of the ‘god’. The Doctor looked at him, before saying “Rise, mortal.”

“O god Zeus, Lady Artemis (he looked at Isobel), lady Athena (seemingly, Zoe just radiated intelligence), and Lord Poseidon (Jamie slightly scowled before recovering himself), how blessed I am to be in your presence. Tell me, do you know where my wife is?” Trolius cried. The Doctor recognised this emotion. It was heartbreak.

“Well, my dear fellow, I was hoping you could help us. Pray, what happened?” The Doctor asked. So, Trolius told them.

 

“Well,” Trolius started, “it all started a few nights ago. Cressida woke in the night, claiming to hear a familiar wheezing sound outside. She couldn’t place it, looked around, but couldn’t see anything apart from a large crate marked ‘RITSAD’, and talked nonsense about annie-grams or something. Anyway, the following day, this guy came to our door, he had a dark mop of hair, kind of like yours, o great Zeus. He wore a brown robe with a sort of white rope round his waist, and called for Cressida. He said that they were old friends, and that they’d only be a minute. I checked five minutes later, and they were both gone.”

“Hmm.” The Doctor mused, as his companions looked at him nervously. ‘What had happened, why was the Doctor interested in a Cressida from Shakespeare?’ His companions wondered. Well, apart from Isobel.

“Trolius, can you just hold that pose, just for a second? Thanks.” She said as she snapped a picture. The Doctor sighed, and then ran into the TARDIS.

 

The cloister bell tolled, firmly and in a dangerous manner. It was warning something. The Doctor ran around the console, pressing buttons and flicking switches, before he stopped at a screen.

“Oh my giddy aunt…” He muttered as Jamie and Zoe entered the TARDIS, followed by Isobel and Trolius. He gaped in astonishment at the machine, before the Doctor immediately set the ship in motion. It was only at this point he noticed the unexpected additional traveller.

“Trolius? Well, actually, you might be helpful. What time did she disappear?” The Doctor asked. Trolius was silent for a moment before suddenly replying “3 days ago, just before midday.” He took a breath before muttering “It’s… it’s… it’s bigger on the inside!”

“Aye, it is.” Jamie responded. Trolius looked around in awe as the ‘temple’ stopped it’s whooshing noise and landed, the cloister bell faint but insistent. Something was going wrong with time.

“Come on then. Trolius, would you like to see the magic of my temple?” The Doctor said. And with that, they exited the ship three days before they arrived.

 

“O great Zeus, how is this possible? It is… three days ago!” Trolius said in awe. Cue a shutter click from Isobel (“What a wonderful pose!”). The Doctor, meanwhile, was keeping an eye on the crate that Trolius had mentioned. Surely enough, there was Vicki, looking just like the day she’d left him. And carrying her, with a gag over her mouth, was a figure in brown robes. He went into the crate, opening up a door, and it began to dematerialise like a TARDIS. Immediately, the Doctor ushered everyone back into the blue box, and started following the other TARDIS through the vortex.

 

Vworp, vworp. Vwirp, vwirp. The two slightly different sounds of two TARDISes materialising at almost the same moment causing a cool audio effect. The hooded figure exited one, disguised as a tree, dragging Vicki behind him. The empty field lay ahead of him, but his eyes suddenly focused in on something. A little blue box, standing alone on a pasture. His eyes narrowed as five figures left the slightly defective machine. They slowly made their way to him, one by one. The first one, although with a different appearance, was undoubtedly the Doctor. Time lords could sense it. The second was the husband of ‘Cressida’, and he was followed by a peculiar man in a tartan kilt. The hooded figure noted to remove tartan from history when he had the chance. Finally, came two girls, holding hands, one with a camera slung over her shoulder. What a rabble the Doctor dragged with him these days. The Doctor came up to him, and then his mouth dropped.

“But how… it’s you! The Meddling Monk!”

**Next Time: A Pebble’s Ripples**


	2. A Pebble's Ripples

**Part 2 - A Pebble's Ripples**

 

**Last Time:** Vworp, vworp. Vwirp, vwirp. The two slightly different sounds of two TARDISes materialising at almost the same moment cause a cool audio effect. The hooded figure exited one, disguised as a tree, dragging Vicki behind him. The empty field lay ahead of him, but his eyes suddenly focused in on something. A little blue box, standing alone on a pasture. His eyes narrowed as five figures left the slightly defective machine. They slowly made their way to him, one by one. The first one, although with a different appearance, was undoubtedly the Doctor. Time lords could sense it. The second was the husband of ‘Cressida’, and he was followed by a peculiar man in a tartan kilt. The hooded figure noted to remove tartan from history when he had the chance. Finally, came two girls, holding hands, one with a camera slung over her shoulder. What a rabble the Doctor dragged with him these days. The Doctor came up to him, and then his mouth dropped.

“But how… it’s you! The Meddling Monk!”

 

“Yes Doctor, it’s good to know that your appearance hasn’t softened your inquisitive skills. Tell me, do you normally abandon your companions in ancient times?” The Monk asked. Vicki, seeing Trolius, but tied up, started crawling across the field like an earthworm. Eventually, she reached Trolius, who immediately undid her restraints.

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” Vicki said, gasping slightly from the effort. The Doctor and the Monk were engaged in a conversation, and Vicki went up to the Doctor.

“Hello, Doctor. How are you?” Vicki asked. The Doctor turned, and shook her hand vigorously. He then turned back to the Monk.

“So, what’re you doing? Kidknapping companions? Because the Cybermen tried that, didn’t work.” The Doctor said, and was about to continue when Jamie came up to him.

“Doctor, I’m feeling incredibly faint, can I go back to the TARDIS?” He asked. The Doctor studied him, before saying yes, and Zoe went with him, propping him up. About halfway across the field, Zoe suddenly collapsed, Jamie with her. They both got up, just fine, around 20 seconds later, and would subsequently say that they had no idea what had happened. Seeing this, the Doctor asked the Monk what he had done.

“I actually have no idea what is wrong with your companions, Doctor.” The Monk said. The Doctor didn’t believe him, but let it slide.

 

“Anyway,” the Doctor continued, “what’s the plan? Taking my companions out of history  _ after  _ they’ve helped me keep history on track? What’s that going to do?”

“No, just Vicki here.” The Monk said.

“But why?” The Doctor asked, curious.

“Well, in the early 1970s, a manuscript will be published. It will be ignored for a few decades, until someone takes inspiration, learns how to do some important skills, and thus provides the cure for the Dolatian plague, without which humanity would nearly go extinct in the mid 21st century. The inspiration for that 70s writer, penned by a then dress-manufacturing apprentice, a lady named V. Harris, is the Shakespearean play on Trolius and Cressida.” The Monk said. The name ‘V. Harris’ sunk in for a second, before then the Doctor then realised something.

“That’s an incredibly convoluted plan, but… it would work.” He said. Then, he became incredibly angry.

“Do you realise what you would do? You’d be condemning a species to death!” The Doctor said.

“No, no, no. I’ve checked. It will mutate and merely make them… dumber. Therefore, no elite program, no reason for Daleks to invade, no reason-“ The Monk spoke, but was cut off by the Doctor.

“Wait, did you say… no elite program?” The Doctor said, and then turned to Zoe, who was fading out of this time and space as a paradox.

 

The TARDIS belonging to the Doctor materialised in London, 1971. Out stepped the Doctor, Isobel, Jamie, and Vicki, with Zoe staying inside the TARDIS as it was the only place she could be without disappearing. Trolius had stayed inside to keep Zoe from going stir crazy. The four made their way to Victoria’s shop.

“Doctor,” Zoe asked through a portable handset, “why couldn’t we just take Trolius and Vicki back to Troy? We’re going to do that anyway, their names are here in my tablet.”

“Ah,” The Doctor replied, “because then the monk would just simply… convince Victoria to not write it.”

“But Doctor, why can’t us two stay here while you drop off Trolius and Vicki in ancient Troy?” Jamie asked. The Doctor nodded, before grabbing Vicki by the hand, running back to the TARDIS, and dematerialising, leaving only an address for Jamie and Isobel to go to.

 

Victoria Harris, formerly Waterfield, stepped in through her front door after a long day of work. She shut the door behind her and looked at her reflection. Her hair was in disarray after a long day of running around a workshop. She had been hard at work making all sorts of dresses: beautiful summer dresses (although she had no clue who was ordering summer dresses in November), awe-inspiring wedding dresses, respectful funeral dresses, and a multitude of others too. She slowly came through the door, but never saw and didn’t remember the laser fired at her head with striking precision.

 

Isobel and Jamie sat at the table of the restaurant, each with a fast food meal in their hands. Jamie clumsily took the bun off the burger, revealing the patty and cheese inside. He then licked the cheese off, ate the burger, and then ate the bread separately, much to the confusion (and disgust) of other diners. Mind you, it was only McDonalds. Nothing much new there. Isobel, after more skillfully eating hers, lead Jamie to the nearest underground station, which had a large blue and red roundel above a stairway into the underneath which was labelled ‘Oxford Circus Underground Station’. They slowly made their way down the moving escalators, before following a confusing web of tunnels onto the crowded platform.

“Y’know, the last time I was here, there were these big furry beasties, the Yeti.” Jamie started. He stopped in silent contemplation for a moment. The concept of the Doctor hung in the air between them, before they both boarded a train towards some far-away corner of the capital.

 

Victoria loved to cook. After she’d woken up, out cold on her sofa, she’d quickly roused herself, convinced herself that she’d fallen asleep, and then set about making dinner. She was making her signature hotpot, something that always helped her concentrate after a long day of work. And for some reason, she decided, she needed to concentrate. It was almost like something was missing. Something was gone. Something was amiss. But she shrugged it off. She gently chopped the carrots, and put them in the pot. The potatoes were peeled, diced, and gently put in too. Add a litre of boiled water, lots of herbs, a bit of meat, a lot of love, and some time to wait, and it would be done. She went over to her desk. There was a manuscript on her desk for a book she was going to publish under her original name of Waterfield:  _ The Victorians and the Daleks _ , which was a fictional novel she was writing about a girl just like her who had been trapped by evil machines. She thought. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She went over, and then opened the door. Two people, one clad in a kilt, stood there.

“Victoria!” Jamie exclaimed. Victoria looked bemused.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do I know you?”

**Next Time: The Pages of a Book**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly surprised Jamie vs Burger wasn't in the show. Genuinely, the Doctor Who team of the 1960s missed a trick.


	3. The Pages of a Book

** Part 3 - The Pages of a Book **

 

**Last Time:** She went over to her desk. There was a manuscript on her desk for a book she was going to publish under her original name of Waterfield:  _ The Victorians and the Daleks _ , which was a fictional novel she was writing about a girl just like her who had been trapped by evil machines. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She went over, and then opened the door. Two people, one clad in a kilt, stood there.

“Victoria!” Jamie exclaimed. Victoria looked bemused.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but do I know you?”

 

“Victoria? It’s me! Jamie! Jamie McCrimmon! Surely you cannae not remember me?” Jamie said, horrified. Victoria looked at him with a funny expression.

“No, don’t think we’ve met. However, it is weird, there’s a character just like you in a manuscript of a book that I’m writing. Jamie McCrimmon, scotsman, helps free a girl from these evil machines called Daleks. What a funny coincidence!” Victoria said. She quickly, noticing a splattering of rain outside, ushered them into her home, always one to welcome visitors. She showed Jamie the manuscript in question, and watched as his mouth fell agape in shock.

 

“So, Victoria, where did you get the ideas for these from?” Isobel said as she picked up another sheet. On it were plans for other books; one called  _ The Metal Tombs,  _ one called  _ The Abominable Snowmen _ , another called  _ The Evil Twin _ , another called  _ The Abominable Snowmen Return _ , and one that made Isobel freeze:  _ Metal Men Under London _ . That’d been when the current TARDIS crew had set off. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Isobel briefly sighed. She turned to Jamie, who was flicking through  _ The Victorians and The Daleks _ with an astonished look on his face. How was it that Victoria remembered this but not him? According to her, the ideas ‘popped into her mind’ out of nowhere. What she evidently didn’t know was that the stories were true.

 

Two months later. Isobel, it turned out, lived next door. Funny, that. Apparently, when Victoria was moving out, a house had come into her possession from an ‘ancestor’ Dr John Smith Waterfield. Isobel and Jamie, living together to watch over the amnesiac Victoria to stop the monk stealing her manuscript, went round frequently and the trio struck up a friendship. Once, they got a postcard saying  _ Hello all, got stuck in Lanzarote chasing the Monk, will be back… soon. Regards, Zoe _ . Another one came soon after saying  _ Cybermen. In BEIJING! Helmic regulator still broken I’m afraid, landed in London 1869 and 2069, instead of 1969. All the best, the Doctor _ . Aside from that, the two former travellers forgot about their quirky friend who lived in a box. They went out, got jobs, came home, watched the cool science-fiction serial on saturday nights (“Feels familiar.” Remarked Jamie), and then went to bed. They stopped their adventurous lives, went to work normally, and lived just like any other person, until five months later…

 

Meanwhile, across the universe, two TARDISes were chasing each other. Suddenly, if one can picture this in a place with no colour yet psychedelics and with no directions, the old crates moved from side to side, and a 1960s police box swerved and went tumbling off to nowhere. The old crates continued on, morphing slowly into a similar police box, the only difference being a built in sign on the side saying ‘out of order’. It landed, and the monk snuck out onto the busy London street. Now, he would put his genius plan into action.

 

Four months earlier, Victoria sung as she spun around the room, grabbing ingredients, gently chopping, pinch of herbs here, dash of pepper there. She suddenly stopped, deep in thought, something trying to connect. Suddenly, the cooker timer alarm rang, snapping her from her thoughts. She continued her food preperation, oblivious to what she was missing. She didn’t think of the very obvious thing that her mind was missing. She never even guessed what it was.

 

Another time, around two months later, when Jamie and Zoe were round, she read them the manuscript she was starting for her second story -  _ The Metal Tombs _ . She hadn’t finished the first one, but she’d “just come up with all the ideas”.That one just seemed to suddenly gush out one day. Jamie seemed wistful at a story of metal men and tombs while Zoe looked curious. Victoria didn’t notice their reactions as she continued to read and make edits, mainly for vocabulary but adding in a touching conversation between the ‘Doctor’ character and another character, the titular ‘Victorian’ in the series title ‘A Victorian In Space’. She still didn’t have a name though. She thought her own name would fit but would be horribly egotistical. Still, it was editing time again!

 

After those long five months in which Jamie and Zoe constantly waited, Victoria was reading. She was reading from a newly published author who seemed to tell vaguely similar stories to her -  _ The O.K. Corral _ and  _ The War Machines _ \- the one she was reading now. Some Dorothea Chaplet person. These Ben and Polly people, they seemed familiar to someone that Jamie had mentioned visiting a few times. Hold on, wait. They visited them once, on Jamie’s request. And they matched their description except by the fact they seemed to have… grown? As people, certainly. But why were all these things seemingly connected? What was she missing? 

 

She mulled it over for a minute, and then the dam holding back the torrent of memories broke. She sat in shock for a moment as all the stories she’d ‘come up with’ flooded into her mind. Dizzy Daleks, Cybermen frozen, Yetis in Tibet, Warriors of Ice, someone who looked like the Doctor but wasn’t (what a name!), Yetis again, and shock horror - foamy weeds! She remembered a tearful but necessary goodbye, and she remembered a terrifying reunion - being shackled, half-conscious to a wall. But if there was one other thing she remembered, it was (insert “awwww” noises here) Jamie. Jamie! Without a further thought, she raced next door.

 

Jamie was practising his bagpipes when he heard a knock at the door. Victoria was there, grinning with excitement.

“Jamie!” She said. “I had amnesia, but now I’ve remembered! Oh Jamie it’s lovely to see you properly!” And then there was a brief kiss. Zoe suddenly appeared behind.

“Statistically, it was probable that this would happen, given the-” She started, but Jamie shoved his hand over her mouth. Suddenly, a rustle. He looked, and saw the monk creeping away. He ran into Victoria’s house, and realised this was the monk’s plan all along. Why?

 

The manuscript was gone.

 

**Next Time: The Recursion Game**


	4. The Recursion Game

** Part 4 - The Recursion Game **

 

**Last Time:** Jamie was practising his bagpipes when he heard a knock at the door. Victoria was there, grinning with excitement.

“Jamie!” She said. “I had amnesia, but now I’ve remembered! Oh Jamie it’s lovely to see you properly!” And then there was a brief kiss. Zoe suddenly appeared behind.

“Statistically, it was probable that this would happen, given the-” She started, but Jamie shoved his hand over her mouth. Suddenly, a rustle. He looked, and saw the monk creeping away. He ran into Victoria’s house, and realised this was the monk’s plan all along. Why?

 

The manuscript was gone.

  
  


There was hope though. Jamie ran off in hot pursuit down the street, legging it in a chase. ‘Imagine being a bystander’ Zoe thought. It would look strange - a guy in a kilt with bagpipes screaming “Craig an tiure!” at a monk muttering about a TARDIS while holding a manuscript for a story about evil xenophobic pepperpots with sink plungers. Suddenly, as the monk turned the corner, he saw the police box. He put his key in the lock, briefly to no avail, but then to find it swing open. Jamie followed, and the box disappeared.

 

Inside the TARDIS, the monk saw another police box. Confused, he tried the key. It worked. Huh. He went inside. But that was impossible! Jamie was about to enter after him when a hand stopped him. He turned and saw the Doctor grinning like a lunatic.

“Hello Jamie!” The Doctor said enthusiastically. Jamie asked him what he and Zoe were doing when he explained.

“I’m tearing a minor hole in the space-time continuum. I’ve materialised both inside and around the Monk’s TARDIS. And sabotaged the controls. Watch, here he comes now!” He said. The external doors of the control room opened, and the Monk entered. His eyes gaped, and he ran back, before appearing, equally bemused, in the box in the centre of the control room. Then he darted back inside, and the next thing Jamie heard was an awful groaning as the Monk’s ship tried (and failed) to dematerialise.

 

Victoria and Isobel stared blankly into thin air, where the TARDIS had been. The street was now empty save for the two girls and a few bits of litter. They tried to make sense of what they’d seen, and Victoria weeped for the lost work. Then, the TARDIS materialised again, to cheers. The Doctor, Zoe, and Jamie came out. They began some weird sciency mumbo-jumbo explanation…

 

_ ——Flashback—— _

 

_ Zoe then put in an appearance in the console room, muttering about recursion. Jamie shook his head. _

_ “But Doctor, why can’t he leave?” Jamie asked. The Doctor muttered something about space-dimensional circuits, transcendental realities folding in and out on one another, and pseudomaldefonianism, whatever the hell that was. _

_ “Essentially,” Zoe summarised, “the Doctor sabotaged his TARDIS, removed the spares, and then has left the Monk to it. Any minute now he’ll come out asking for a trade.” _

 

_ And sure enough, two minutes later (just enough for Jamie to go and get a biscuit), the Monk came out. _

_ “Doctor, you infernal man! You have sabotaged my TARDIS. Well played. Tell me, how much for the broken THEID and UIAJD circuits?” He said. The Doctor pretended to think for a moment before responding. _

_ “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps… a manuscript. One by a Miss V. Waterfield?” He replied. The Monk weighed his options, and disappeared inside the TARDIS that was materialised in the other control room. A moment later, a manuscript was posted out the door. And true to his word, the Doctor posted the relevant circuits, and had a smile on his face when the Monk dematerialised. _

 

_ —Flashback— _

 

“But Doctor,” Victoria asked over a cup of tea back at her house, “why won’t he come back here and try again?”

“Ah, that’s simple.” The Doctor replied. “I gave him the exact circuits he requested.”

Isobel was puzzled. “What does that mean?” She said.

“Well,” said Zoe, figuring out the plan, “it means that he removed another circuit which the Monk didn’t ask for therefore didn’t get back.”

“Exactly!” The Doctor replied. “And I removed the directional circuits and the anti-recursional circuits, which means…”

 

In the Monk’s TARDIS, he prepared to land. He flicked a few knobs, and began the procedure. But there, a second out of sync with the ship’s noise, was the same noise again. Peculiar. He turned around in the console room to find a grandfather clock standing there. That hadn’t been there before. Worried, he stuck his hand in it. And watched it appear by the exit doors of the console room. He then tried to dematerialise. But the circuits were missing or fried, and he was stuck there, cursing the Doctor for all eternity.

 

Jamie sat down on the bench by the river. He’d been off to the shops to buy him and Victoria lunch for the ‘date’ they were going on (that’s what the Doctor called it). They held hands, smiled, laughed, and enjoyed life. These were the little, emotion-filled moments a person’s time on this Earth was all about. Following the picnic, they went to a new art gallery. The Doctor had popped them forward in time to the year 2018, and they were now observing modern art. Victoria, being into this sort of thing, immediately saw the beauty. Jamie, on the other hand, said that everything in the gallery was samey and ugly apart from one thing - Victoria. For although they couldn’t stay together, they still loved each other.

 

Zoe and Isobel were also on a date. They had gone to the same art museum, although they had gone to the photography section. To be honest, although there were some stunning-looking photographs, Zoe didn’t really get the point of all this. She did, however, enjoy watching Isobel geek out over all the photos. She also played a fun game which Zoe didn’t fully understand but still enjoyed - ‘guess that camera filter’. Following a lovely afternoon out, the Doctor picked the couples up, and after Victoria was dropped off with a teary goodbye, the other three and their pilot went off on another trip.

 

“Commander.”

The fuzzy, years old CCTV tapes showed a box fading out of existence. The tapes were barely intact after all these years of decay and abandonment before they’d came and prepared. Experient 1 had failed. Experiment 2 was an isolated group and had failed. Now there was Experiment 3.

“The relevant factors are strong. There could be a problem.”

“There is no problem, no problem at all. We will control them. I guarantee it. And from them, we shall have all of time. What is the status of experiment 3-1?”

“She is resisting, but we are slowly garnering the secrets.”

“Speed it up. Now. We have little time. But we can do this. We will do this.”

And the Doctor didn’t see it coming.

**Next Time: London, 2204**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right! Next Wednesday brings part 1 of the six-part finale. And yes, the end of this story is a kind-of-cliffhanger to that. The upcoming story also features two of the best cliffhangers of the whole series. As for my next series, I was thinking (perhaps) a story about Victoria and her life after the Doctor (but this is just an idea at the moment). So following the end of the next story, there may be a few weeks before the trailer and then series.
> 
> Also, if you guess who the monsters are for next time, don’t spoil it.


End file.
